


Death Scars

by AzureDiamond51



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood, Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Chapter specific CWs listed in start notes, Content Warnings in order of first appearance, Death, Flashbacks, Gen, Head Injury, Hugs, Injury, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poisoning, Realistic Minecraft, Scars, Temporary Character Death, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28673805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureDiamond51/pseuds/AzureDiamond51
Summary: In a world where death isn't permanent, it becomes more of an annoyance than anything. However, death still takes it's toll through memories and the harsh white scars it leaves behind. In this world, death scars paint stories of their wearers, be those stories true or false.--------------This AU is plotless; it's a collection of isolated scenes that can be read independently, with no set number of chapters or update schedule.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 22





	1. Close To Home

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter-specific CWs: injury, blood, broken bones, temporary death, scars, poisoning

Darkness coats the forest floor, not even a speck of starlight piercing the thick tree cover. Fog rolls along the ground, the occasional stick and rock poking up through the fog cover. Trees sit densely together, gnarled roots creating an unseen tripping hazard in the dark and thick trunks hiding the monsters that lurk through the night. 

A man named Dream sprints through the forest, breathing heavily with an expression of terror on his face, hidden by a chipped and worn white mask. Sticks and leaves are stuck in his messy dirty blond hair, and his sweater sleeves and pant legs are covered in small tears from the brush racing by. In his right hand is an axe, clenched tightly in his grip, and in his left is a shield that’s strapped to his forearm. Dream’s heart pounds as he races through the monster infested forest, practically skipping a beat every time he stumbles over a root or a monster makes a sound uncomfortably close by. 

_“C’mon, just a little further…”_ He thinks to himself as he nears the edge of the forest where he knows the clearing his home is built is. In the near pitch dark he catches a glimpse of green of a creeper slinking behind a tree. He can smell the rotting stench of a group of zombies slowly shuffling his way. He hears the clinking of bones of a reanimated skeleton from somewhere behind him.

The clinking of bones from behind him.

From _behind him._

The realization registers in his mind just as his foot catches in the loop of an unseen tree root, sending him crashing face first into the ground with a scream of surprise and fright from his lungs and a scream of pain from his ankle as it bends much too far in the fall. His shield catches on another root, forcing his arm to bend wrongly as stars of pain flash across his vision. He feels another scream, this time of pain, come from his throat. Distantly, he realizes that his axe has fallen from his hand and has landed somewhere under the surface of the fog. Breathing raspy, Dream tries to pull himself to his feet with his uninjured arm, but his ankle sends shocks of pain in protest up his leg and he falls onto his back with another cry of pain.

_“Maybe if I stay still they won’t see me.”_ The thought drifts through Dream’s mind, and he does his best to stay as perfectly still as possible as his vision swims with the pain radiating from his arm and ankle. As he lies on the ground, he starts to feel the cool of the fog rolling over his body and the bluntness of a tree root pressing into his back. Slowly, the pain in his broken bones starts to dull to a throb as the sunrise starts to tease a faint wash of dark blues and reds in the sky above the tree cover. Finally seeing hints of colour through the leaves as the air starts to lighten, Dream thinks, _“I think I’m safe now.”_ Carefully, with his uninjured arm, he props himself into a sitting position, keeping his bad ankle off the ground,

As he rises from laying on the ground, he freezes as he hears the clinking of bones again, and he quickly scans his surroundings for the source of the sound. His gaze pauses as his eyes lock onto a skeleton, not even ten feet away from him.

The skeleton’s empty eye sockets are facing right towards him.

It’s bow is raised, being drawn.

The arrow’s aimed directly at his chest.

Dream’s eyes widen in terror as the arrow’s let loose from the bow with a _twang _, sent speeding towards him. Time seems to slow as he watches the arrow approach him, right up until the moment it pierces his chest, sinking deep into the flesh just below his heart, slipping right between his ribs. He throws his head back with a scream of agony as his good arm gives out and he falls onto his back. All he can feel is the stabbing agony piercing his chest. It washes out every other sensation, even the pain in his broken limbs. Crimson stars flood his vision as screams ring faintly in his ears. Moments later, he feels more stabbing agony radiate from the underside of his jaw, piercing through his tongue, through the roof of his mouth, through-__

__Darkness falls over him._ _

__He floats in an inky black void, disembodied and detached from all his senses._ _

__Everything and nothing goes through his mind as he floats in the void._ _

__He floats through the void for maybe a second, maybe an eternity, hanging in limbo._ _

__With a start, Dream’s eyes fly open wide and he bolts upright with a gasp, sitting on his bed on top of his sheets. Ripping his mask off his face and dropping it to the floor, he tucks his knees up towards his head, shoes still on, enough to rest his elbows on his thighs and place his head in his hands. Breath hitching in his throat and entire body trembling, he presses the heels of his palms to his eyes as he tries to collect himself._ _

__Several long minutes later, his breathing finally starts to calm and his shaking stops. With a deep breath, Dream swings his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet hitting the floor with a dull _thud_ from his shoes. He sits there for a few moments holding onto the edge of the bed before shakily standing up. With another sigh, he turns his attention to the full length mirror in the corner of his room and walks towards it. In front of the mirror Dream stares at his face, looking at all the scars across his skin, some barely a shade or two darker than his skin tone, most almost a sheet white colour. One particularly long white scar stretches from just below his hairline, crosses between his eyes, and stops at the top of his cheek on the opposite side of his face. He shudders at the memory of that day._ _

__\---------------------_ _

__Minding his own business, Dream knelt next to a chest beside a ruined portal, rummaging through for anything of use. Suddenly a hand roughly gripped his shoulder and threw him to the ground on his back. A woman about his age stood over him, axe in hand and angry expression on her face. Before Dream could even let out a word she was swinging the axe down towards his face, driving it into the front of his skull. Blinding pain radiated through his face for a moment before his death._ _

__\---------------------_ _

__Shaking his head, Dream pushes the memory away, and tilts his head up to see the underside of his jaw. A new circular scar rests among a web of thin white lines, right between his throat and chin, new scar still an angry shade of deep red. He catches a glimpse of the thicker white scar that spans the entire width of his neck._ _

__\---------------------_ _

__Dream and a man unknown to him struggled with one another, punching at each other after Dream discovered the other man trying to steal from his camping supplies and his attempts to make him leave peacefully failed. Both men were bloodied and bruised from their assaults on each other when the other man drew a knife hidden under his shirt and started slashing at Dream with it. Dream managed to dodge back from a couple of slashes before the knife found purchase in the flesh of his neck, slicing clean through both his throat and his jugular. The other man left him choking and bleeding out on the cold ground as he ran away with the possessions Dream brought with him on the excursion._ _

__\---------------------_ _

__Realizing he’s trembling, Dream absently brings a hand up to his neck and gently massages the old now-healed wound as he tries to relax his shaking muscles. A few moments later his shaking’s subsided again, and he lowers the hand from his neck. Feeling overly warm, he reaches down and hooks his fingers under the hem of his sweater and pulls it up and over his head. The t-shirt underneath rides up, revealing a mosaic of white lines and circles and splotches across the entirety of his chest and stomach. After the sweater’s off, his t-shirt slips back down, but not before he catches a glimpse of the angry red circle just below his heart. Setting the sweater down on the top of the dresser next to the mirror, Dream sees the permanently darkened veins laced across his left forearm and woven in his wrist and inner elbow._ _

__\---------------------_ _

__Locked in battle with two Wither Skeletons, Dream raised his shield to protect himself from the attacks of one skeleton while he tried stabbing at the other with his sword. He managed to take the hips out from the one he was stabbing at, sending it crashing to the nether brick floor, coal black bones scattering everywhere. He backed up from the other still-standing skeleton, and lost his balance after stepping on one of the bones from the fallen skeleton. The still-standing skeleton swung its’ poisoned sword down towards Dream, embedding the sword into his shield. Already off balance, the attack made Dream further lose his footing, giving the skeleton the opportunity to press down on its’ sword, splitting the wood of Dream’s shield as he’s forced lower and lower to the ground. He struggled to push back against the skeleton’s attack to no avail, the sword eventually cracking the shield in half and the blade of the sword pierced his skin. The poison on the blade burned his skin like acid, quickly entered his bloodstream and made his veins burn like fire. With a scream of pain, Dream wrenched his arm away from the skeleton. Teeth gritted in pain, Dream managed to take a swing at the skeleton and knocked out its’ spinal column, sending its’ bones clattering to the floor. Within seconds the burning feeling in his veins spread to his stomach, and gave him the most intense nausea he’d ever felt. He dropped his sword and remnants of his shield and fell to his hands and knees, and threw up what little contents of his stomach he had to begin with. The burning in his veins and stomach grew stronger as his breathing became more forced, and quickly the burning sensation spread to the rest of his innards. It felt like his lungs were shriveling, like his guts were disemboweling themselves, like his heart was collapsing in on itself, as he fell to his side, clutching at his abdomen and eyes wrenched shut in agony. He lay on his side, dry heaving and sobbing in agony as his body shut down from the Wither Poison._ _

__\---------------------_ _

__With a gasp, Dream realizes he’s gripping the edge of the dresser so tightly his knuckles are turning white. Slowly, he eases his grip on the dresser and takes some intentionally deep breaths to calm his racing heart. Straightening his back he stands upright again, and looks outside through the window at the rising sun that bathes the sky in pinks and oranges and yellows. The air itself seems to take on a golden hue in the early dawn light. Dream wanders over to the window and leans his elbows against the ledge, gazing at the sunrise from the safety of his small house._ _

__He stays in that position, watching as the world around him grows lighter and lighter as the sun rises fully into the sky. The sky slowly becomes more blue, the greens of the grass and trees showing themselves in the new light, birdsong starts to drift through the window as the more peaceful animals of the world start to wake. Once the sky’s fully blue, Dream steps back from the window and stretches, reaching his arms high above his head. He involuntarily makes a small groaning noise as he works some of the stiffness out of his muscles as he stretches. A few moments later, he relaxes his posture and lets out a soft exhale._ _

___“I’ve never died so close to home before… Maybe I’ll actually be able to recover my axe and shield this time.”_ He thinks to himself as he turns his attention to the door outside. Dream takes a sword off a hook beside the door, loops it through his belt, and goes outside. He makes his way off in the direction he was coming from when he was killed. The long grass of the plain brushes softly against his pant legs, making quiet brushing noises._ _

__Eventually Dream reaches the dark oak forest he was in, and quickly comes across his dead body. He freezes when he sees himself lying dead on the ground, ankle and arm bent at unnatural angles, arrows embedded deep into his chest and skull. His shield’s still strapped to his corpse’s arm, and his axe lies a few feet away. A wave of nausea overcomes Dream despite his completely empty stomach, and he turns away and doubles over, barely able to keep himself from dry heaving. He stays standing like this for several long moments._ _

__He stands upright again, and turns back to his corpse. Shakily, he walks over to the axe, picks it up, and loops it through the other side of his belt. Then, he kneels next to his corpse, and hesitates as his hands hover over his dead arm that’s attached to the shield. _“This feels so wrong…”_ Dream thinks to himself, sitting perfectly still for several more moments. Finally, he rotates his dead arm so he can see the fastener of the shield, and shudders as he makes contact with the arm. Another twang of nausea stabs into his stomach. Fighting through it, Dream undoes the fastener on the shield and gently slides it off of his dead arm. He slings the shield over his shoulder, attaching the strap to his upper arm to keep it out of the way._ _

__Standing up, Dream pauses as he looks at his corpse lying awkwardly on the ground. He thinks, _“I know the… my body’s going to disappear soon, but… it feels wrong to leave me lying like this.”_ He stares down at his corpse for a few more moments, debating what to do. A moment later, he leans over and shifts his body on the ground so that he’s not lying on tree roots anymore, straightens his legs out, and rests his arms peacefully across his stomach._ _

__He takes a step back from his corpse. He goes to walk back home, but stops for a moment. Memories of all his past deaths race through his mind. He whispers, “I’m glad I’m still here.”_ _


	2. Itching For A Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream goes to the tavern in the nearby town in an attempt to try to relax, but gets the exact opposite of what he came for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter-specific CWs: alcohol, violence, injury, implied head trauma, temporary death, scars

Inside the town's tavern, Dream sits on a stool at the bar, mask slid just far enough up his face to allow him to drink from his mug of ale. He leans on the bar top, hunched over his mug and staring ahead, not looking at anything in particular. Three empty mugs rest in front of him. Around him in the dimly lit tavern are many other patrons, most of which are starting to become intoxicated by this point in the night and the room's starting to get louder. Several feet away down the bar, a person wearing an oversized cloak sits in a chair in the corner at the table closest to the bar, a few other people sitting and drinking with him.

Dream's attention is grabbed from his internal alcohol-induced musings as the cloaked man at the table speaks, loud enough for Dream to hear and clearly intended to be. He picks up on his words part way through what he's saying. "... just look at 'im over there, pathetic. Bet a strong breeze would knock 'im over, let alone a fist." Dream freezes, muscles tensing at the man's words. The man laughs. "'Aybe a gust o' wind 'ight even _kill_ 'im."

At that last sentence, Dream raises a hand to lower his mask and he spins around in his seat, pushing himself off the bar and getting to his feet. His head starts spinning more than he expected it would and he staggers a few steps before catching his footing. "What did you just say?" His hands are clenched into fists held at his sides.

The man's looking straight at Dream. He sees that the man has a few thick, white scars along his face. "Oo, looks like someone’s itchin' fer a fight. You sure you wanna do that? I'd wipe the _floor_ 'ith ya."

With a low growl, he says to the man, "Hey, wanna back up those words?"

The next few seconds happen in a blur. The man's taken off his cloak, revealing ripped muscles in a t-shirt.

The man's towering over him, hands gripping his shoulders.

Voices cheering, egging the fight on.

The floor's under his chest, side of his head pressed to the tile, mask lying a foot away from him.

Something crunches sickeningly.

Pain radiates from the side of his skull.

Warm wetness spreads across the side of his head, dripping down his face.

Darkness.

Dream floats in the darkness for what feels like both an eternity and half a second at the same time.

With a strangled gasp, his eyes fly open. Confusedly, he reaches up to pull his mask off ( _"Why do I still have this?"_ he detachedly thinks) as his eyes dart around his room. _"Where- how?"_ He thinks, not yet processing that he's back in his room. He continues to look around for several long moments before he remembers what happened a few minutes prior in the tavern. Dream slowly raises his hand to the side of his head where the man kicked his skull in, tears starting to sting behind his eyes. He hears the two muffled voices of his friends outside his room.

Dream's door creaks open, and light from the hallway floods inside. George pokes his head in the door, looking Dream's way with an expression of concern. "Dream?" He says quietly, "What happened?"

He glances towards George before turning his head and burying his head in his hands. "Go away George." His words are muffled through his hands.

"Hey, Dream, it's okay." Dream hears George's footsteps come across the floor making the wood creak softly. He's grabbed the mask from the bed beside him and has started to put it back over his face when he feels the bed beside him lower slightly from George's weight. George puts his hands over Dream's, stopping him from putting his mask on, and says softly, "You don't need to wear your mask around me."

His voice barely audible, Dream says, "I don't want you seeing my death scars. They're humiliating." He turns his face away from George, towards his wall.

"There's nothing wrong with them, accidents hap-"

Dream cuts him off. "Accidents don't happen to people every other fucking _day_. Do you even know how many times I've died?"

George remains silent.

"Two hundred and forty seven times. The only people I've met who've died that much are the ones who couldn't keep themselves alive if they had an army protecting them." His breathing's starting to become shaky as he speaks. "People see all my scars, and they see someone who dies easily. They see someone they can pick on. They think I'm pathetic." Dream pauses, trembling. He remembers the man's words from the tavern. Quieter, he mutters, "Maybe I am pathetic."

" _Dream_." George says sharply enough to keep him from drifting off. "You're not pathetic. The people who judge you just from your scars are the ones who are, not you. Your scars don't define you."

"You don't see some weakling who can't keep himself alive?" Dream turns his head back in George's direction slightly.

"Honestly, you're one of the strongest people I know. You've been through so much, and you're still going."

Dream breathes deeply before relaxing his grip on his mask enough to let George take it from him.

"Are you feeling any better?" George asks after gently setting the mask down on Dream's nightstand.

Dream nods. "A little." He sighs heavily as he turns his head back to George, his friend now wrapping his arms around him in a hug. "Thank you for still seeing past the scars." Dream says quietly into George's shoulder.

George replies, tone comforting, "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

The two friends sit there in their hug for a few more moments before Dream suddenly winces, bringing his hand to his head with a high-pitched whimper of pain.

"What's wrong?" George asks, concerned.

"I- I was drunk before I died. I think it's... starting to hit me now, now that- _ow!_ \- it's out of my system." He hisses as another stab of pain shoots through his head.

George lets go of the hug and stands up, then takes Dream's hand. "Let's go make you some tea, it might help."

Dream nods as George helps him to his feet. "That sounds like a good idea." He says quietly. The pair leave Dream's room for the kitchen. Sapnap meets them just down the hall and joins them.


	3. Alone- alone- alone-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sapnap wakes up in his home after a particularly upsetting death, and he isn't able to cope with it the way he usually can: clinging onto his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter-specific CWs: implied temporary death, implied injury, flashbacks, scars

With a gasp, Sapnap bolts upright in his bed, eyes wide in terror and struggling for breath. His eyes dart around his room, unfocused and unsure of his surroundings. Sweat drips down his forehead, and a phantom pain radiates from his arms, from his chest, from his neck, from his very _skull_. His eyes lock onto the armor stand in the corner of the room, clothes hanging loose off of it just like-

_Low groans echoing off of the cave walls._

_Rotten stench wafting through the stale air._

_Rough hands grabbing at hi-_

Sapnap chokes back a sob, and shakes his head, willing the memories away. Slowly, he raises his hands and rests his face in his palms. Starting to gently rock himself back and forth, he focuses on his breathing, attempting to relax himself slightly. As he draws in one shaky breath, another sob catches in his throat, making his breathing hitch in his thr-

_Cold stone under his back._

_His screams ringing in his ears, his legs kicking in the air._

_Drooping, dead flesh hanging off of four gaunt fac-_

With a frightened whimper, Sapnap tips over onto his side, curling in on himself on top of his bed. Arms wrapped tightly around himself, he openly sobs into his blankets for several long minutes. Eventually, his breathing starts to calm, and his muscles begin to relax. Once they have, he quietly slides himself off of his bed and takes his shoes off. They hit the floor from a few inches up with a dull _thud_ , and Sapnap brings himself to his now-socked feet. He sighs, thinking to himself, _”I really need a hug right now…”_ As he wanders over to his bedroom door, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. A large, angry red mark pokes out from under his hairli-

_Gnashing teeth lunge at his face._

_Sharp nails rip towards his chest._

_Overwhelming stench overpowers his nose, his eyes._

_Searing pain blossoming through his ribs and deep into his chest, tearing into his scalp and cracking into his sku-_

Sapnap realizes he’s dropped to his knees as the memory washes over him, his fingernails scratching at all the new scars spread across his scalp and chest. It takes a few moments, but he’s able to bring himself to stop scratching at the scars, and his fingers still on his skin before his hands drop to his thighs. With a shaky exhale, he slowly brings himself back to his feet, and turns to his door once again. Sapnap stares at the closed door for a moment, taking a deep breath before plastering a fake smile across his face and stepping out into the hallway. “Hey George, I’m home early!” He calls out into the house, forcing a cheerful tone into his words.

Met with silence, Sapnap walks out into the living room area of the house he shares with his two best friends. No sign of George in the room, he calls out again, “Hey George?” Not getting an answer still, he pokes his head into the kitchen and dining area. “George? Dream?” His expression starts to fall as he realizes that his friends aren’t inside like he expected them to be. Panic starting to rise in his chest, he goes to the front door to find both George’s and Dream’s travel cloaks and weapons missing from their hooks on the wall. He expected Dream to be away still, but George? George is virtually always home, he’s always around, he’s always there when Sapnap wakes up from death and needs a comforting shoulder to cling onto, oh shit Sapnap’s alone-

_Alone in the dark cave-_

Sitting with his back to the hard plank wall-

_Sitting with his back against the cold stone-_

Trees moving in the wind outside, making the house creak-

_Monsters groaning in the cave, making the hair on the back of his neck stand-_

Memories washing over him in waves that won’t leave him alone-

_Nails and teeth tearing into him oh gods why can’t they just leave him alone-_

Sobs and screams and cries ringing in his-

_Sobs and screams and cries ringing in his-_

Another voice cuts through the air around him, indiscernible but snapping him back to reality. Through blurry eyes, Sapnap looks at the source of the voice and sees a person kneeling in front of him, eyebrows tilted up in concern. Sapnap blinks several times before the identity of the man before him clicks. _It’s George._

Softly, George starts to ask, “Hey Sapnap, what’s-” but he’s cut off as more tears roll down Sapnap’s face and he holds his arms out towards George, practically screaming ‘hug me’ with the gesture. Quickly leaning forwards towards Sapnap, George puts his arms around Sapnap, and he feels the trembling man’s arms wrap so tightly around him that it almost hurts. “Shh… you’re okay.” George murmurs to Sapnap as he cries into his shoulder.

The pair sit on the floor together, wrapped in a tight hug for several minutes. George’s legs start to go numb under him, but he doesn’t move so as not to disturb Sapnap as he slowly relaxes in his arms. Eventually, Sapnap’s breathing more or less evens out, and he loosens his grip around his friend. “Sorry…” Sapnap mutters, turning his head away from George.

George tilts his head to try to look Sapnap in the eyes as he looks away. “No, it’s okay. Obviously you needed that.” He pauses for a few moments before asking, tone soft, “What happened?”

A shaky breath rattles through Sapnap. “I… was in a cave and got a little too cocky.” His voice comes out as barely a whisper as he absently rubs one of the new scars on his neck, scratched up from earlier in his bedroom.

Noticing the action, George takes hold of Sapnap’s wrist, keeping him from further irritating the mark. Figuring it’s best to change the subject now, he asks, “Let’s get you a little more comfortable, hm?” George knows Sapnap will recognize the offer of distraction from the day’s events in his question.

A slight smile starting to form on his face, Sapnap nods and says quietly, “I like that idea.”

George helps Sapnap to his feet and walks with him to the couch. As Sapnap sits down, George retrieves a few blankets and a box with a board game inside. He hands the blankets off to Sapnap, who quickly cocoons himself in them with just his head and hands poking out while George sets up their game. As they play, Sapnap starts to genuinely relax and he slowly returns back to his usual cheery, energetic self now that he’s got one of his friends with him and he’s not alone anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has any questions about the setting of this AU, ask in the comments and I'll do my best to answer! I came up with this AU idea a while ago for a setting for some writing practice, and decided that I liked my writing pieces enough to share them.
> 
> If you like what you read, feel free to follow me on Twitter at @AzureDiamond51 !


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